


The Best Friends' Guide to Marriage

by LauraRoslinForever



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Did I mention pining?, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraRoslinForever/pseuds/LauraRoslinForever
Summary: Phil Coulson and Melinda May are each other's best friend. If you ask them, their lives are great. They have fantastic friends, careers they love, all while living in one of the busiest cities in the world. But when Melinda receives a letter, their lives take a sudden, unexpected turn and begin to change in ways neither of them would have ever imagined.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Melinda May, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 38
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, a couple of things. Yes, this is a new story, but I am only posting this first chapter for now as it will be my new AU after I finish Finding Home. It's my shiny new idea that I needed to write and get out of my system so I could go back and finish up my others without this bugging me. Eventually, I'll get around to adding more tags because if I post them it'll just give the story away. I will say this is one of my favorite tropes that I have surprisingly have never written before. I hope you're all on board with this one because it's gonna be a loooooong one. Okay, enough from me. I hope you enjoy it.

The end of April brought with it a heavy front that fell over the city of New York, making it feel too much like January. Her weather app had warned her of the future drop in temperature, but she’d forgotten all about it before bed and fell asleep without turning up her heat.

Which was unfortunate because she had to leave what little warmth she had trapped with her beneath her covers. As much as the idea of staying in bed all day tempted her, she had things to do and a friend to meet.

Melinda sighed and got up from bed, stopping in the hall, adjusting the heat in her apartment to something that would keep her from freezing.

Though, it would take a while to warm up. Her two-bedroom apartment in SoHo was a little on the larger side for someone who lived alone. She liked the high ceilings and extra space to do Tia Chi along with the guest bedroom for when her mother or occasionally her father (when she could drag him away from their home country) visited. It was a little pricey, but she had a good-paying job, sizable savings, not to mention a few investments that made for a comfortable living.

While she waited for the heat, she went and made herself a cup of tea. Recently she bought herself a new blend. An Oolong black tea with a hint of peach. While she was normally a green tea person, she liked to change it up every once in a while. When her tea finished, she went into the living room where she blew the steam away from her as she watched the sunrise from her window.

She checked her phone, waiting on a response from her friend Phil that she had sent while she was still in bed under her down comforter and quilts. She and Phil met every Sunday for brunch and had plans to meet near her place, but it was a bit too cold for the drafty old restaurant, so she suggested they meet up at their brunch spot uptown.

It was still fairly early. He was probably out on a run. He’d message her after he got coffee or after a shower. She wasn’t worried about it. He’d see her message eventually, as he liked to text her questions or opinions on his writing.

It amused her to no end how he was the academic of the two of them, and despite that, he came to her when he was feeling stuck or wanted to know what she thought of a certain paragraph. He worked every day with people with PhDs who were much more qualified, but she was always the one he called.

It was no wonder all of his colleagues had all assumed they were together. She’d been to many of his school functions. Not because they were dating, but because whenever he had to make a speech or be in any kind of spotlight, he always begged her to come along.

As long as there wasn’t dancing, she was in.

He was her best friend, after all.

They met in college when she moved to New York from China on a figure skating academic scholarship. Her mother wanted her to stay home, but Melinda was drawn to the chance to be as far away as she could get from her mother while still doing what she loved. She skated five hours a day and still managed a full-time schedule. It wasn’t easy, and after a few semesters of so much, her grades dropped. One day she’d been on the verge of having a panic attack over an economics midterm when she saw a flyer for tutoring just inside the lobby of her dorm.

The tutor turned out to be Phil, a history nerd who wanted the extra money to work on his car. He’d helped her with her economics throughout the semester, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

Mostly.

She competed at championships around the world. He went off for a summer in Europe. They called. They wrote. They kept in touch. He moved back home after college to take care of his mom after she was diagnosed with cancer, getting a job at the local community college there. Melinda visited as often as she could. She loved Julie.

Phil came back to New York after his mother passed away. She let him stay with her for a month while he found a job and an apartment. His mother’s death had been hard on him. He got a part-time job at NYU and a small studio that was more like a large closet with a bathroom. Melinda hated it and tried to convince him to stay longer so he could find something better, but he insisted on not being a burden to anyone, even her.

Phil published his first book a year later and a second a year after that. She stopped competing in skating and went on to show skating. It wasn’t bad, but shows like Disney On Ice didn’t exactly have the competitive edge she thrived on and it involved more traveling than she preferred.

A few years ago, she decided it was time to put her skates away and fell back on teaching. With her skating experience and a degree in business, she was able to get a job as a skating school director at The Rink. It paid well and allowed her to still get in some skating teaching a group of six five-year-olds once a week, which was more fun than anything. Her real workouts came from the self-defense classes she taught on Thursday nights at a gym she and Phil got memberships to years before. While he did martial arts across the hall, she beat the hell out of mostly poor male volunteers. They’d then go out and get dinner together and plan their weekend, which they spent usually together.

To think they were both nearing forty. Both still single and without kids.

Not that they didn’t come close. She’d been in a serious relationship with a man named Andrew. He was a good guy, a psychologist. She loved him a lot, and she knew he wanted to marry her, but when he proposed she couldn’t say yes. They broke up two years ago. They still kept in touch. He still asked about Phil. They’d gotten along well. Which hadn’t been the case with Phil’s last girlfriend, Audrey. She didn’t like Melinda. Phil always told her she was imagining things, but she knew. Whenever Phil invited her out with them, Audrey would become quiet. Melinda confronted her once about it. It wasn’t like she was a threat. She and Phil were just friends. She tried to explain it to Audrey, but the woman just smiled faintly and said, _“We’ll see.”_ Melinda stood stunned as she walked off.

So when Audrey moved across the country, it was with no sadness for Melinda. The sudden break up crushed Phil, and she felt terrible for him, but as he had with ear after Andrew, she drug him out of his apartment as much as she could, and soon she had him smiling and laughing once more.

Finishing her tea, she got up from her favorite spot on her couch beside her window and took her mug to the sink.

Inside her cardigan, her phone rang. She smiled and pulled the phone from her pocket, expecting to see Phil’s name, but saw it was her father’s. She answered with a worried, “Bàba, you’re up so late.”

His low chuckle followed a disappointed, “I’ve been waiting, but you never called. My email informed me the package I sent you was delivered.”

Package? Her shoulders slumped. Yesterday she woke up early and went with Phil to the first farmer’s market over in Chelsea. When she finally got home later that night she had so much with her, she forgot to stop and check it. “Oh, that’s my fault, I forgot. Hang on and I’ll run down now.” She grabbed her keys with one hand, keeping the phone to her ear while she started out the door. “How are you?”

“Good. They’ve given me a new medication for my hip. It settles the pain better. How is Phil?”

Melinda shook her head, smiling. He always wanted to know about Phil. “He’s good.”

“Is he writing?”

Melinda snorted. “He’s always writing.”

“Tell him I’m ready for him to send me more.”

“I will,” she assured her father and Phil’s number one fan and one of Phil’s few advanced readers.

Down at the mailbox, Melinda tilted her head and pressed her phone to her shoulder, holding it there to free her hands. There was a package alright. A big yellow one that someone bent to fit alongside her other mail. Melinda frowned. She’d have to have a word with her mail carrier.

Taking it back upstairs, she sighed at just how disheveled it was. “It wasn’t anything fragile, was it?”

“No, no. Just pictures of your cousin’s wedding.”

Melinda made a face. She’d already received digitals from Sun three weeks ago, but she wasn’t about to tell her father that. He didn’t believe in digital pictures. He wanted them printed and framed. “Great. Can’t wait to see them.”

“It disappointed her you couldn’t come.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. “I know.” She’d already gotten a guilt trip about not attending from her mother. Twice now. But Sun had only given her two weeks’ notice. She couldn’t have possibly gotten the time off on such short notice. Back in her apartment, she dropped the envelope on her kitchen counter and went about flipping through the rest of her mail. Most of it was letters from the stores she frequented, no doubt filled with coupons, a couple of bills she still needed to sign up for paperless billing… and Melinda paused at the last one.

It was addressed to her from the US Department of Immigration.

“Bàba, I’ve got to go,” she said. “I’m…” She was what? Panicking because the government sent her a letter? She couldn’t tell him. He’d only worry. Besides, it could be anything. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly then said, “I’m meeting Phil soon.”

“Okay, Mellie. Enjoy your morning. Tell Phil I said hello.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She hung up quickly with her father and set her phone aside. She stared down at the letter. Why in the world would they be sending her mail? Melinda was in the country not as a citizen, sure, but had employment-based immigration. She’d been meaning to file for citizenship but hadn’t because -she liked to say it was because she hadn’t had time, but that would be a lie. She just forgot.

 _So stupid, Melinda,_ she chastised herself.

She let out a sigh. Well, whatever it was, she had to face it now. Maybe it was just a letter telling her she needed to file? Maybe she’d been there so long it was automatically granted?

With her heart in her throat, she took the letter from the counter and ripped it open. She didn’t have to worry about it staying there. It dropped the moment she began to read.

* * *

Phil Coulson woke to the sound of his alarm at five after six. It was one of those mornings he would have liked to have hit snooze a few dozen times, but it was Sunday.

Sundays were the days he got up early. He started with a run through the park, then stopped on the corner of Manhattan Ave and W 111th Street, where he grabbed a large dark roast from his favorite coffee shop. It was a little hole in the wall you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. On the way out, he’d grab a copy of The Times. He had a subscription for the paper on his phone, but the Sunday edition just wasn’t the same as having it in his hands.

Melinda liked to tease him about it. The paper and all of his books. What could he say? He was a tactile person. Preferring the look and smell of physical books while she carried every book she owned on her Kindle. He’d never understand.

After his coffee, once he finished the paper, he showered then fired up his computer where he’d get a few thousand words on his book written. A few hundred if it was a heavy research day. One of the great joys of being a tenured history professor was staying published. That or contributing administratively, being a chair or a dean. Neither of which Phil was the least bit interested in. He preferred to stay out of the limelight whenever possible.

Around ten was when he called it quits, as every Sunday he’d meet Melinda in her neck of the woods or his for brunch. In the spring and summer, they met in hers. Aurora Soho had great outdoor seating, while Crepes on Columbus had bigger indoor seating and even a fireplace. He tried as often as he could to reserve them a table near it in the winter months.

He was a little disappointed that morning when he read her text that suggested she meet him uptown because it was so cold out. He was really looking forward to Nutella French toast he couldn’t get at Crepes, but their vanilla granola was a suitable alternative.

Phil was just pulling on his jacket to go meet her when his phone rang.

His lips pulled up into a smile at her picture, and he swiped to answer it. “Hey, I’m heading down there now. You’re not there yet, are you?”

Sometimes she was just too punctual.

“Phil.”

His brow furrowed. There was something about her voice, it was too soft, too breathy too… Was that a sniff? “Lin?” His heart pounded thinking something might be wrong. That she’d been hurt. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just got… Let’s skip today. I’m not feeling very hungry.”

“Okay, sure, we can do that. What’s got you so upset? What did you get?”

She sighed. He thought for a second she wasn’t going to tell him, but then after a pause, she went on. “I forgot to check my mail yesterday. I got a letter from The US Immigration Office. I’m being deported back to China.”

“Deported?” He stopped in his tracks. What the hell? “Why?”

“They granted me employment-based immigration while I was skating, but now that I’m retired I no longer qualify. They do not consider my current job an extraordinary ability. I was supposed to apply and start the process for naturalization last year but then...”

He sighed heavily, sitting down in his leather chair. “Your dad got hurt.”

“Yeah.” He heard her sniff and then a sound followed that was one of her famous frustrated growls she did when something got under her skin. “God, Phil, I don’t want to leave. What am I going to do?”

He didn’t know. The US was so complicated and fucked up when it came to immigration. “Did they give you any options?”

“They say I can appeal, but that can take months and all they’re giving me is ninety days.”

“Shit.” He got to his feet again, unable to sit. He had a few friends in the law department. He could go see them, see what advice they could give him. They’d probably tell her to get a lawyer. There were options out there. There had to be. He stopped, put his free hand on his hip, and with as much confidence as he could muster told her, “No, you know what, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Don’t worry. We will.” He bit his bottom lip, coming up with a plan. “Tell you what, you don’t feel like going out. Give me an hour. I’ll bring breakfast to you.”

“You don’t have to-”

He shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. “I want to. We’ll sit down and eat and figure this thing out.”

“Okay.”

He let out a breath. She didn’t sound as upset as before, but there was still resignation there. “See you soon,” he told her and waited for her to hang up. Even when she did, he stared down at the phone for some time.

 _Fuck_.

China?

But... no. _Hell_ no.

What would he do without her? Melinda was his best friend. The only one who would brave the Mexican Taco truck on 5th and Park with him. The one he turned to to find errors in his manuscript and his glasses when he stuck them some place random.

There had to be something. A loop-hole.

He was going to get them breakfast, but first, he was going to check on a few things. Making his way over to his desk, he fired up his laptop. Once it finally loaded, he pulled up the government website and spent the next twenty minutes pouring over all the criteria for immigration. He sat back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t found a loop-hole per se, but there was a way to keep her there. It was a little risky, and if anyone found out the reason for it, they could both go to jail, but he doubted that would be the case. Nobody would know but them.

If she accepted.

With determination in his veins, he got up and went into his room. His mother had given him something before she passed away and told him it was his to do with what he pleased. Though, he didn’t think she had this in mind. But she loved Melinda, and somehow he knew she’d be okay with it.

At the bottom of his closet in the very corner, he kept a small safe. It was where he kept his passport, the deed to his parents’ home, the title to Lola, and the ring. He’d been saving it for the woman he planned to marry one day. It was vintage, but the three-stone princess cut diamonds still sparkled like new.

He took it from the box and held it up. He might have to get it sized. Melinda had really small hands. He chuckled to himself, thinking about how much those small hands could inflict a lot of pain. He once volunteered to be her “aggressor” for her self-defense class. Being in jujitsu, he thought he could take whatever she threw at him. Turned out the throwing she did was him, across the mats.

Tucking the ring back into the box, he closed the lid and put it in his inside coat pocket. He grabbed his keys and locked up behind him.

He didn’t stop for breakfast. He found he was too nervous. Once he got to her place… after he told her about his plan, he’d order them something.

She buzzed him in her building when he arrived and he took his time walking up to the third floor while he debated telling her about his plan first or just getting down on one knee and doing it. No, surprising her was better. Doing it that way would assure she wouldn’t catch on and talk him out of it. She’d probably try to if she did. He just had to do it.

Outside her door, he took a breath and knocked. She’d take a minute to get to the door because she’d always unlock it once she buzzed him in so he could just go in.

He heard her footsteps, got down on one knee, and tried like hell to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest. The door opened, and he saw the confusion on her face right before she looked down. “Marry me?”

She stared down at him. Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Phil Coulson, you can’t be serious?”

Not exactly the response he expected to hear when he imagined proposing to someone, but considering the circumstances… “I am. I’ve never been more serious.”

“We’re not together.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. All we have to do is fool a total stranger. We know everything there is to know about one another. It wouldn’t be hard.”

The way she didn’t answer right away gave him hope. “You’re insane.”

He chuckled at that. “That may be, but I have a feeling this will work. Think about it,” he implored. “We spend most weekends together. Talk on the phone most nights. Getting married would save us rent. And if I’m being totally honest, I wouldn’t mind having you on hand to ask questions when I can’t remember the proper use of a semicolon.” She rolled her eyes, but her heart wasn’t in it. “We can do this. So what do you say?”

“I say, this is the craziest idea you’ve ever…” she trailed off when he reached into his pocket. Opening it up, he held it out to her. She sighed, but then she took a second to really look at it. He saw the moment she recognized it for what it was, and her eyes filled with tears. “Phil is that...”

“My mother’s? Yes.”

“Phil,” her tone softened, her head fell to the side, “you can’t give that to me.”

“I can and I will if you accept,” he told her, taking her hand and squeezing it. “She loved you. I know she’d approve of this.”

She looked away and swiped a tear that had fallen. “I can’t believe you.”

He smiled gently. “Is that a yes?”

The next few heartbeats were possibly the longest of his life.

“Yes,” she said, “Now please get up before the neighbors see you.”

He stood but didn’t go inside right away. Instead, he took the ring from the box and raising her hand, slipped it on her finger. It was a little loose, but it looked like it belonged there.

“We’ll have to get it sized,” he told her, moving it from side to side with his thumb. Looking up, he gazed at her. She’d been teary before, but now she was _crying_ crying. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her. “It’ll all be okay now.”

“I can’t believe you want to do this for me,” she murmured.

“Are you kidding? I’d do anything for you.”

And he would. Without question. Whatever it took to keep from losing her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen... I know I said I wasn't going to write this until I was done with Finding Home, but we all know by now that I have zero self control. XD

Once the door was closed, Phil made his way inside her apartment, walking into the living room grabbing her a tissue. Ready to get down to the business of their new arrangement. 

The business of their _marriage_.

“I’ve been reading up on this immigration stuff on my way over here, and I’m no expert, but by the criteria they’ve set, after we’ve been married for three years you can apply for naturalization.” 

Three years of being married to Phil. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Still, three years and she would be forty-one and him forty-four. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, ‘ _You’re not getting any younger, Melinda,_ ’ she warned whenever she or anyone brought up the subject of marriage or grandchildren.

“That’s a lot of time to give up for me,” she said, biting her lip.

It was a lot of time for them both to give up.

“I don’t see it that way at all.” 

Of course, he didn’t. Because he was Phil. Phil, who would do anything for her. “Oh, and how do you see it?”

“I see it as spending three years with my best friend.” The way he said it so genuinely had her heart doing a strange flip-flop inside her chest. He put down his bag and took out his laptop and a notebook setting them on her large oak coffee table. Turning back towards her, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Okay, so let’s talk this out. You said your letter told you you have ninety days?” She nodded and let out a soft sigh. With that, he continued, “Alright, tomorrow morning why don’t we go down to the immigration office and just explain the situation? They don’t know I proposed today. For all they know, I could have asked you months ago.”

She shook her head. “We can’t go down there, show them my ring and expect that to be the end of it. We’ll need a good story to go along with it.” If this was going to work they had to make it believable and they both needed to know whatever story they came up with by heart. Not only for the government but their family and friends and she told him as much. “We can’t have anyone second-guessing this.”

“True,” he said, blowing out a breath that puffed out his cheeks. “We could always elope?”

“We can’t elope, Phil.” If they eloped, she would never hear the end of it. “My mother would kill us both. Our friends would be disappointed. And besides, won’t it look too suspicious? To the government and our friends. Eloping is my style but it’s not yours.`”

He opened his mouth like he was about to argue, but closed it. They both knew between him and her, Phil was the romantic. Had this relationship between them been real, he would have done everything in his power to talk her into a real wedding. “Those are fair points I didn’t think about,” he said looking down at his feet. “Okay, so we come up with a believable story and decide on a date and plan our wedding.”

 _Ugh._ A wedding. Thoughts of flowers and invitations, flowers and dresses filled her mind. “A wedding’s going to be a lot of trouble.” 

He shrugged. “Not really. If we’re going to do this, might as well do it right, right?”

While she agreed, everything was happening so fast. Ninety days wasn’t a lot of time. It wasn’t like they were throwing a dinner party. She brought a fist up to her mouth, chewed on the tip of her thumbnail as she started to pace. All the things they’d need to do and the cost for those things had her anxiety spiking. “Weddings can cost a lot of money, Phil. Especially in this city.”

“I have some in savings. And if I move in-” He gazed around before looking back at her. “I assume you’d want to live here?”

“Are you kidding? I can barely unfold my yoga mat in your living room.” She knew because she stayed with him for a week when her air conditioning went out last summer. She didn’t know how he lived in that glorified closet of an apartment. 

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. So I move in here, and that saves quite a bit of money right there.”

“I won’t let you pay for it all.”

“We'll work out who pays for what later,” he said though his tone sounded dismissive. Like he was humoring her so they could keep talking and not get stuck on the finances. He knew her well. She’d bring it up again later. He took a seat on the couch and reached for his laptop on the coffee table. Once it was ready, he pulled up his calendar. “So what weekend is good for you?”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed and shook her head. He asked her like they were planning to go to the farmers market or the movies. She sat down close to him, took a deep breath, and leaned forward to have a better look. “Well, nothing in May. We’ll need to give people time to plan.”

He smiled a crooked smile at her. “Your mother?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But how fitting would that be? Married in May.” He bumped his shoulder against hers playfully. “You said it yourself. Weddings are expensive in this city. June is a popular month for weddings.”

“How do you know what months are popular?”

“How do you _not_? Name a weekend we haven’t seen someone having a wedding in the summer. I can almost guarantee you if we try to plan something this late in June, there’s going to be nothing good left.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You got that from _Bride Wars_ ,” she grumbled.

“A movie that you loved,” he pointed out.

She wasn’t going to admit to that. “How do you know May’s not booked?”

“I don’t, but I think we’ll have a better chance.”

She let out another sigh and looked at the month again. Any weekend would work. Her only plans for most were planes with Phil anyway. “May 30th.” That gave them five weeks. “Think we can pull everything off by then?”

“I know we can.”

“We need to get organized. We need to make a list.”

“We do.” He reached for the laptop and placed it in her lap. “Here, I know how much you love to make spreadsheets. You get us started, and I’ll order us food.” She raised an eyebrow at his back. From the kitchen, he called, “What do you feel like?”

She closed her eyes, picturing the menus taped to the door of her fridge. She and Phil had a collection from near-by restaurants they’d gathered over the years. But their favorite (when they wanted to indulge and stay in) was Uncle Ted’s. The name was silly and not at all Chinese, but the family that owned it was. They named it after the aunt’s rich husband, who loved their food so much he gave her nieces and nephews the money to start up their own restaurant. 

“Better call Jenny and have her give us the works,” she told him, then mumbling more to herself, added, “This might take us a while.”

* * *

He had just finished the last of his twice-cooked spicy pork and noodles as Melinda took the last bite of her moo shu chicken and pancakes.

They made some good progress over the afternoon. The list they came up with was extensive, but in no time at all Melinda had it color coordinated by priority in an excel-like document that impressed him.

Putting aside his own list (notifying his realtor and setting up the moving company for the next weekend because they might as well get started immediately) and her list (making room for Phil’s things), they had quite a lot to do in a short amount of time. Luckily, Phil had just one class over the summer that wouldn’t start until the middle of May. Though, even then, it wouldn’t be much of an issue since it was a once-a-week Wednesday class and one he could teach in his sleep.

After they decided what kind of wedding they wanted (he might have pulled up a list of themes that she rolled her eyes at but settled beside him on the couch as they scrolled through the list), modern with an alternative twist. A really cool, pretty kick-ass kind of _Great Gatsby_ twist he couldn’t believe Melinda let him talk her into, and now that he had permission, was more excited for than he probably should be. But who wouldn’t be excited at the thought of a champagne tower and telling their guests to ‘dress to the nines’ for their wedding?

He grinned stupidly just thinking about it. He reached for a steamed bun.

Finding a venue was their first item on the list. They discovered by taking a quick trip down the rabbit hole following a few links on Gatsby themes wedding, there were great places around them, parks and halls that they could check out.

And since they were now planning something a little fancier, it made sense to get a wedding planner. Melinda agreed with the hope the person they hired would keep him from going overboard. She’d take care of finding a wedding planner while he made calls to venues.

Telling their family and friends would wait until they had the venue and the date set. Which they hoped to have settled come Monday. Then they’d call immigration on Tuesday for their next steps, along with calling and telling her mother.

They could do this. They made a good team. Always had.

“How did we fall in love?” Warmth spread up his neck as he looked up from the list. Mug of tea in hand, she held back a smile and lifted a brow. “You know people are going to ask.”

He nodded. Okay, he thought. It was that time. Now that logistics were out of the way, it was time to come up with their love story. “Do you have any ideas?”

Her gaze became thoughtful. “Do you remember Mack and Elena’s Christmas party?”

His heart thudded in his chest, remembering that night. His first Christmas being single after Audrey. Neither of them had dates, so they went together. He remembered standing on that balcony with her. Joking with her, pressing against her to keep them both warm, trying desperately not to blurt out how wonderful she smelled or how he was thinking about just how beautiful she was.

It wasn’t the first time he thought it and wouldn’t be the last. He’d always been attracted to Melinda. They had natural chemistry even he couldn’t deny. There’d been times when he’d wanted to mention it, but timing had never been their thing. Either she was with Andrew or he with Audrey.

He might have tried something that night, but then he remembered the sting of his break-up with Audrey, and that’d been hard. He lost his dad at a young age, then his mom just over five years ago now. Other than a handful of friends, Melinda was all he had left in this world. If they tried something and it failed… if he lost her…

Regardless to say, he didn’t end up making a move that night.

“How could I forget? We locked ourselves on the balcony. The only way we kept warm was that bottle of Haig.” He left out the wrapped in each other’s arms part.

“I’m so glad I wore leggings under that dress.”

“We were only out there thirty minutes before Nat and Val stumbled out.” It felt like hours to them. Besides the cold, truthfully, he hadn’t minded it all that much.

Melinda took a sip of her tea. “I don’t know who was more surprised to see the other. Us or them.”

“Well, they were the ones making out.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m pretty sure they thought we were doing the same.”

“More to support our cover,” he smiled back.

“For a moment there, I really thought you wanted to.” Their gazes locked for long moments, and Phil swallowed. Her dark eyes on him made him feel like they could see right through him. Her gaze fell from his to her cup. “But I feel like we’ve had a lot of those moments.”

He’d never lie to her. “We have,” he said, hoarsely.

She cleared her throat. “So we were stuck outside in the cold, cuddled together for warmth, and I kissed you.”

“I’d like to think that I kissed you.”

“Really, Phil?” she asked, looking at him like he hadn’t as much as admitted he’d wanted to but didn’t.

He ignored it. “How do you want it to go?”

“I kissed you because I was tired of waiting for you to make a move.”

Internally, he bristled. “Fine, you can claim the first kiss, but then I’m the one who asked you out on our first date.”

“Sounds about right. So we’ve been dating since then, and you asked me to marry you... when?”

He hummed thoughtfully, thinking over the last few months. One night stood out to him a month ago, at Columbia’s Giving Day. It was a new thing the college was doing every year to raise money for the school. More specifically, the department that mattered to you. He’d been so proud of his history kids. They raised 56% more money for the History department than any other. Because of this, he and a few of the lead organizers had to get up on stage and give a big thanks for all the kind donations.

Lin had come along with him, looking once again beautiful and proud of them all. It was a great night. They had a lot of fun and even stayed for the fireworks. Had they been together, it could have been romantic, sitting on the grass with her and a shared blanket around their shoulders, looking up at the colorful sparks lighting up the sky.

“Giving Day?”

Her head fell slightly to the side, a soft look on her face. No doubt remembering that night, too. “I like that.” She took another sip of tea. “So why haven’t we told anyone?”

“Because after so long as friends, we wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while.”

“That’s believable.” She used her foot to nudge him in the leg. “Stop hogging the buns.”

He chuckled and handed her the container. “Is there anything else we should prepare ourselves for?”

“I don’t think so. I just wanted us to have the story straight because you know everyone will ask.”

“That they will.”

“Will you feel bad lying to them?”

“No. Mostly because if we explained why they’d all understand.”

“True.” She moved from lying against the armrest of the couch to his side.

“Will you feel bad lying to your parents?”

“My mother, not so much. My dad, a little. Let’s face it, he’ll be so thrilled.”

Guilt twisted in his gut. Phil loved William. Getting his feedback from a recent novel was the bright spot in Phil’s beta process. He was intelligent and posed questions about that manuscript that gave Phil’s work a more thoughtful approach.

They’d break it gently. Maybe even with the truth.

“You know, at the end of the day… or the next three years, nothing will stop us from being friends. And hey, who’s to say we won’t decide to stay married for the tax break?”

“It’d be convenient.”

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

She dropped her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. She took his hand, threading their fingers together. “You ready for this?”

He squeezed her hand. “More than ready."


End file.
